You are not Percy Jackson

Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson, that's all Rick Riordan's territory. Stupid Rick Riordan stealing my idea... No, seriously, I do not own Percy Jackson and did not give Rick Riordan the idea.

Summary: You had been missing for eight months. Then you just came in, not remembering, asking 'Don't I know you?' Well you do. But you wouldn't know. You are not Percy Jackson. Not Yet. SoN, Nico sees Percy for the first time with amnesia.

I just felt like it, ok? This is a completely spur of the moment thing after reading "Remember" by ER JENN who is an amazing author, check her stories out!

No Nico/Percy intended… but I guess you could look at it like that… if you squint.

'Do I know you?'

'You look familiar.'

Well I should.

I should to you.

Wasn't it you, who tried to save us, and Annabeth ended up falling instead?

I always found that funny, in a twisted sort of way. Kronos had wanted one of the Big Three's kids, he could've taken: Me, Bianca, Thalia or You.

But Annabeth was the one taken.

She meant enough to you though, and that was enough to lure Thalia and you there.

Wasn't it you, who I hounded with questions, all those years ago at that military school?

I remember now, you looked like you wanted to bite my head off, I was so naive. If I had asked you those questions now- no, not now. Eight months ago- you would've bitten my head off and tossed me to the Ares cabin.

Wasn't it you, who showed me Camp for the first time? Who took me to Chiron and the Hermes cabin?

You tried, I know you did. I know you. To make me feel welcome, and bully the Stoll's into not stealing the new kid's stuff until I'd gotten the idea.

But you had so much on your mind, what with Annabeth being taken. Disappearing, so inconsiderately.

Just like you did this time.

Wasn't it you, who I told to take care of my sister, Bianca di Angelo, on her quest? I sent you on your way, so naive.

So naive.

Wasn't it you, who came back without her?

Without my sister.

I blamed you for that.

No, I didn't just blame you.

I had wanted you to be the dead one instead.

As if that could've brought her back.

Wasn't it you, who found me in the Labyrinth, weren't you the one who saved me from the Titans?

You told me about it later, the stable full of horse dung. I had shivered and said "Rather you than me".

Wasn't it you who got me out of the Labyrinth?

We ran and ran and ran and ran until we could run no more.

Wasn't it you who believed in me?

You said I could do it, that you believed in me, my big cousin, in a way an older brother.

Wasn't it you who invited me in for blue cake, (the best cake I'd ever had).

Your fifteenth birthday, the old tradition still in place. Blue pancakes, blue cherry cola, and of course, blue cake.

Wasn't it you who taught me the hard way, never to trust my father?

He tried to kill you, and make me the hero of the prophecy. I hated him more than anything right then, after I had seen that look of angry betrayal on your face.

Wasn't it you I convinced to take a dip in the Styx. It saved your life you know, you'd be dead, but you said to me how bad the pain was. You couldn't describe it, millions of eons of broken, hopeless dreams thrown in that river, and you had to bathe in it.

Didn't you and I, fight side by side, exactly a year after blue cake.

Heroes of Olympus, they called us, Heroes and Heroines of Olympus, they said. They were right in a way, I guess.

Percy Jackson was loyal, brave, smart (when he wanted to be), a big brother to me in more ways than one. He was the savior of Olympus, son of Poseidon.

You are not Percy Jackson.

Not yet.